by Jon F. Merz
“Never.”
“Well,” said Felix. “It appears we may have found the weapon for you then because you handled that with the grace of a natural, of a person born to the blade as it were. That is very good indeed.”
Chapter 14
The next seven days passed in a blur. As they traveled east toward Vienna, the lands grew more populous and Wolfric found himself marveling at the buildings that grew ever higher and more urbanized. Felix led him through an exhaustive array of training each and every day, starting with simple calisthenics and ending with lessons in both armed and unarmed combat. Wolfric learned slowly with most of the material, but Felix seemed pleased nonetheless, stressing to Wolfric that it didn’t matter that it took him longer to get the material down, just that he never gave up. Quitting, said Felix, was the worst thing you could ever do.
One area where Wolfric excelled however, was with the blade. Felix started him off slowly here as well, but Wolfric soon proved that when it came to edged weapons, he was a keen learner and fast study. Felix showed him how to fight with the knife in-close, throw it, and even fleece one off a man without him knowing it.
They started sparring with wooden swords, but soon abandoned those for the real thing. “What good is training unless it is done as close to reality as possible?” asked Felix. “If you get cut now, you will bleed less in battle because you will have had the experience and therefore be that much better than if you’d only been bonked with a piece of wood.”
To underscore the point, he cut Wolfric with a quick slash across his forearm.
The sensation of the cut was exquisite and Wolfric committed the feeling to his memory along with a vow that he would never allow anyone to cut him in battle.
Again and again, they trained. Felix seemed determined to discover whether Wolfric had a breaking point: a line that he would not be able to surpass. But Wolfric was just as determined to never show that line to his teacher. And perhaps moreso to prove that he was every bit capable of becoming a Fixer and helping his people.
Around the campfire one night after Felix had spent hours showing Wolfric how to move silently through the woods in the dark, his teacher unspooled a map and let the firelight glance across its lines and contours. Felix stabbed his finger at the map. “Can you believe this is where I met you at the dungeon?”
“It seems like a lifetime ago,” said Wolfric.
Felix smiled. “Perhaps it was indeed a lifetime ago. You were different back then. Accustomed to living a life without purpose and without merit. Things have changed in the short time we’ve been together, haven’t they?”
“Very much so,” said Wolfric. “Where will we go from here?”
Felix traced his finger to the east. “Vienna and then Bratislava, down toward Budapest, and then our last bit of real civilization at Debrecen. Once we leave there, we will be venturing into unfamiliar territory. The Carpathian Mountains are inhospitable land, dotted with small towns and hamlets filled with very superstitious people. We must be on our guard at all times lest we run afoul of them and become the hunted instead of the hunters.”
Wolfric suppressed a grin. It was the first time his teacher had used the plural to denote their coming assignment.
Felix caught it, however. “Don’t kid yourself, Wolfric. You’re not a Fixer yet. But you’re coming along well. And at the very least, you’re proving my assumption about you correct.”
“Which assumption?”
“The one I told the Council. That you were of the stock worthy of becoming a Fixer.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank yourself,” said Felix. “You’ve done some hard work. Granted, there’s plenty more yet to be undertaken. Plenty more tests yet to be endured. But you’ve shown real promise. Not the least of which is your skill with a blade. Pity our real enemies don’t die by metal but by wood. Still, being adept with a sword is a critical skill as we travel the highways of our world, rife as they are with bandits and brigands and cutthroats. You will need every bit of skill with a blade that you will with our brethren. Perhaps more.”
“I look forward to the tests then,” said Wolfric. “Where is the town we seek on this map? Where is Malancrav?”
“Perhaps a hundred and fifty miles southeast of Debrecen. Deep in the mountains. The roads there are laborious things that will test every bit of our mettle as well as that of our glorious horses.”
“I don’t know how we’ve come so far with them as it is,” said Wolfric. “Most horses cannot travel much more than twenty miles per day. Yet ours seem tireless.”
“Oh they tire,” said Felix. “But they are also bred to go much further than ordinary horses. Humans train their horses to go twenty miles each day. We train ours to go three times as far. Provided we take care of them each night and slip them a little something extra in their feed bags, they will do us a tremendous service each day that we require it.” He sighed. “Even still, when we reach Debrecen, we will swap them out for a fresh pair. That’s the payoff for their incredible stamina is that they must be rested for a good two weeks after they’ve been on the road for that long.”
“Are we approaching that deadline?”
“Indeed we are. I got this pair shortly before I found you. I’d learned of your location and knew that I would be requiring a good set for us to make our rather hasty departure. The Council has seen to it that we have access to the steeds we need to do our job all over the continent.”
“Another example of their foresight,” said Wolfric. “I find it admirable, but the cost must be extraordinary.”
Felix shrugged. “I would think that the cost is something easily borne when the alternative is the annihilation of our entire race.”
“When you put it like that,” said Wolfric. “I suppose that does make good sense.”
“Everything the Council does is geared toward preserving our people. The secrets we are entrusted with preserving mean the difference between life and death for all of our race. It’s an admirable thing they do.”
“Are they faultless?” asked Wolfric.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just that you paint them as a picture of goodness. Yet they have so much power. And we as a people have bequeathed such to them. Perhaps without even knowing them as well as we might. Are they without fault in how they execute their vision for the preservation of our people?”
Felix said nothing for a moment, but Wolfric could see the wry smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Power is a funny thing. For some people, they prove themselves worthy of it. They wield it with a simultaneous measure of humility and strength and are able to do amazing things with it. Things perhaps not possible otherwise. For others, power is the ultimate goal, a narcissistic one at that. They desire power for the control it gives them, not over themselves, but over others and those less fortunate. Power can be a great thing and it can also be a terrible thing. Sometimes one does not even know how power will affect them until they get it. Only then does it exert its influence on their ego, on their insecurities, on their failings. And the results then show themselves, sometimes to ill effect.”
Felix stoked the fire until the flames grew higher. “You ask me if the Council is faultless, the answer is absolutely not. All creatures possess faults. Humans, vampires, every living things on this earth suffers from fault in one way or another. The Council does its best with what it has at its disposal. Your recruitment is, in fact, an attempt by them to make things better where they have been content to settle in the past. As I told you when we met, there is more work than can be done by the likes of me alone. That is why you are here: because the Council is not without fault. But they have recognized a failing and tried to correct it, so that is worthy of respect in the same way that you make mistakes in training, are schooled, and then expected not to make those same mistakes again.”
“And are there those on the Council who crave absolute power without the need for other members?”
“As in one
ruler of our kind?” Felix shrugged. “I don’t know if there are. But we are all unique individuals, are we not? So perhaps there are those on the Council who do seek power for themselves alone.”
“A pity,” said Wolfric.
“Only for them,” said Felix. “Because if they attempt to wrest control away from the Council, all they will get for their trouble is a visit from me.”
“Or me,” said Wolfric.
Felix grinned and then chuckled. “Very true. Very true, indeed.”
Chapter 15
The landscape had changed dramatically.
That was the best way to put it, Wolfric figured as they rode into the steppes of Transylvania away from Debrecen and southeast now along a route that would take them deep into the Carpathian Mountains enroute to Malancrav. Tall grass grew around them but in the distance, the craggy peaks of the Carpathians loomed large, their spires hidden among dark gray clouds that threatened all manner of weather. Wolfric felt a sense of foreboding, as if the skies were warning them of what lay ahead.
Felix drew his steed to a halt and watched the horizon for a moment. He glanced at Wolfric. “Tell me what do you feel when you look that way?”
“Dread,” said Wolfric before he even realized what he was saying.
“Why?”
“The dark clouds, the mountains, the land itself seems to look as though hands are reaching up from the ground where they have been buried, eager for vengeance upon those who put them there.”
Felix cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve got a bit of poet in you, haven’t you?”
“No idea,” said Wolfric. “But that’s just what it feels like.”
“Where does it feel that way?”
“My stomach,” said Wolfric.
Felix nodded. “And so we come to a very important notion, one that would be dismissed by most were you to talk about it with them, but one that I have nevertheless found to be true almost to the point of unerring accuracy. Put simply, listen to your gut.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s an instinct,” said Felix. “One born within us from millennia past. Before we could communicate. Before we could speak or grunt most likely. It is the instinct of animals and those who have fought for their lives and those who have known what it is to face death. You must come to trust yours for it has no doubt been buried deep, glossed over by the onslaught of civilization. You may not have even recognized it if I hadn’t asked, but it is there. Within you. It is within all of us. But we must be willing to understand what it entails in order to come to rely upon it.”
“What does it entail?”
“The presence of danger. Serious danger.” Felix sighed. “Most would rather run from it than accept it back into their lives. To them, it is a reminder of ages long past when life was measured in months rather than years, when animals hunted us all and death was always present. Most people would not willingly choose to accept such danger into their lives.”
Wolfric grinned. “Well, that’s sort of a foregone conclusion when it comes to our work, right? We make our living embracing danger. There’s no other way to do what we do without it.”
“Indeed,” said Felix. “Remember how you feel at this moment. Remember it well. You may soon find yourself feeling the same way again and if that happens, pay attention to it. Never let anyone tell you it is worthless. When you are working alone, it may well be the only thing you have that you can truly count on to save your life.”
“I understand.”
“Then we ride on. These lands are inherently dangerous. Keep your wits about you at all times and have your weapons ready to wield for we may need them sooner than you think.”
By noon, they began the long circuitous ascent into the mountains. Wolfric found himself working extra hard to keep his awareness sharp because the trails they rode on were little more than inches wide in spots that led up steep trails pockmarked with ruts and holes and twisted roots that could easily fell a horse and rider. And even as the chilly air swept over him, he felt sweat forming at his hairline and running down into his tunic.
By the time the light started fading from the afternoon sky, they had progressed a scant number of miles. Wolfric paused to look behind them at the way they had come, taking in the flat lands they had crossed earlier this morning.
As he watched, he thought he saw movement down near the base of the mountain a few miles back on the trail.
“Felix.”
“What is it? Why have you stopped?”
Wolfric squinted now, trying to pick out details of the movement. His eyesight, like those of his vampire brethren, was keen and he could see things from a distance better than humans. He could also easily see at night, which had proved useful in his past adventures.
“Three riders,” said Wolfric. “They’re behind us on the trail but gaining fast. They’re urging their mounts hard.”
Felix grunted. “And here I thought we might actually make it to our destination unmolested.” He sighed. “Very well, then. Prepare yourself. We will soon be in combat.” He surveyed the land around them. “But since we have the advantage of location, we may as well choose it to our advantage.”
“How can you be so certain they’re coming to attack us?’
“I’m not,” said Felix. “But experience has taught me it is far better to expect an attack than to be unprepared for the surprise of one. Now, come. We must prepare a suitable greeting for our guests.”
Felix steered his mount around again and raced up the trail, foregoing safety for speed. Wolfric had little choice but to do the same and his stomach lurched as he his steed shot forward when he dugs his heels in.
A thousand feet further up the trail, the ground broke away with a deep ravine on the right side and a large mass of boulders to the left. Felix drew his horse to a halt and nodded. “This will do.” He dismounted and smacked his horse on the rump. It trotted further up the trail, disappearing in seconds.
Felix pointed at Wolfric. “Do the same. They are trained to remain where they stop further up the trail. Now come, we don’t have much time.”
Wolfric dismounted and smacked his horse on the rump in the way that Felix had. Instantly, his horse trotted up the trail and vanished around a bend.
Felix was huddled close to a boulder and peering back down the trail. “They’ll be here soon.” He looked at Wolfric. “Are you ready?”
Wolfric felt like he wanted to vomit and defecate at the same time. “I don’t think so.”
Felix grinned. “I know the feeling, trust me.” He drew out his pistol and made certain it was cocked. “Don’t shoot from a distance, but rather wait until they’re almost atop our position. We’ll get two shots only so make sure they count. It will be down to blades after that.”
“How can you be so calm?”
Felix’s eyebrows danced. “Calm? My dear Wolfric, I am never calm going into battle. But I am also gifted with a measure of experience so perhaps that has fooled you into thinking I am relaxed. No one who has ever fought for their lives ever thinks of battle as being easy. Everyone is always scared. Always nervous. What matters now is what you do with that fear. Use it to drive you forward and engage the enemy until we are victorious.”
“Pistol first then?”
Felix smiled. “Yes. And then be quick with your blade. Let these fools taste your steel and be quick with how you dispatch them. If they are seasoned brigands they will be hearty foes and you must not make any errors. Do not hesitate for they will not.”
Wolfric loosened his sword in his sheath and then drew it out, placing it in his left hand. He held his pistol in his right.
Far off, but gaining fast, he could hear the churning hooves of the horses coming up the trail.
Felix climbed up one of the boulders and positioned himself there, steadying his pistol for the shot. Wolfric stayed close to the base of the boulder, thinking he would step out as soon as Felix fired. He just hoped he didn’t get trampled by the horses as they came charging in to th
eir position.
“Steady yourself,” said Felix over the rising sound of the riders drawing down on them. “Remember your training. You’ll be fine. I have faith in you.”
Wolfric grinned in spite of the coming danger. It was the first time Felix had paid him a compliment, a real compliment at that. Wolfric felt his heart thundering in his chest, whether from it or not, the compliment had helped.
He cocked the pistol now.
Concentrated on his breathing.
And steeled himself for the coming fury.
Chapter 16
They were upon them in an instant.
Wolfric heard the sharp explosion of Felix’s pistol as the horses thundered into their position. One of the riders fell from his saddle and toppled to the ground. The horses reacted by crying out and stopping short. Their riders, swathed in dark clothes from head to toe, struggled to regain control.
Wolfric stepped out, leveled his pistol on the closest rider and fired. He willed the bullet to fly true and saw it punch the rider in the chest. The rider cried out, clutched at his heart, and fell from the saddle.
Two of the horses were now riderless and their panic caused the third to start bucking up and down trying to dislodge its rider. The other horses churned the ground, trying to flee the confined area, and finally shot back down the trail where they’d come from, their breath staining the air with steam.
The last rider slid from his mount and drew two swords. His eyes were fierce and they were the only part of his face Wolfric could see. He was vaguely aware of one of the other riders getting to his feet, despite being injured by the gun shot.
And then Felix was beside him. “I’ve got the leader. Take the wounded man. And be quick.”
Felix moved to engage the leader and the air rang with the clash of steel on steel. Wolfric had little time to watch, however, because the second rider was now on his feet charging in with a war cry that sounded like he had just screamed down from the very heavens themselves.